


Don't Drown Your Heart

by Joana789



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Confrontations, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, POV Stiles, Stream of Consciousness, rated M for language and some blink and you miss it porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:49:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joana789/pseuds/Joana789
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing is – nobody really gets them.</p><p>Nobody gets them, and all those people, they all say things like, "Derek's dangerous," and "You chose him?" or they don't say anything at all and Stiles - Stiles doesn't really care.</p><p>Maybe they’re both broken in a way, he and Derek, but that’s fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Drown Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a stress relief because my life has been a mess lately and I felt as if I was dying and these two always seem to calm me down so yeah. This happened.  
> The original title of this was literally "the short thing" because my imagination sucks most of the time.

 

 

The thing is – nobody really gets them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Derek can be difficult sometimes but Stiles supposes he is, too, and that’s just fine, because it means there’s something wrong with the both of them and he can accept that. Derek has a thing, always needs to sit in a place he can watch the door from, somewhere where the entrance to whatever room he’s in is clearly visible and it’s a safety thing and Stiles wonders how many times this weird obsession has saved Derek’s life so far.

He used to make fun of that, say, “Chill a little, dude, nothing’s gonna happen,” and then there was this one time when something actually _did_ happen – fucking faeries – and if it wasn’t for Derek’s instant reaction back then, Stiles would be probably dead, because those fuckers were nothing if not fast.

Derek was – _is_ – faster, though, so yeah, Stiles doesn’t point it out anymore.

And hell, it’s not like he’s one to talk because he’s a little broken himself, too. He doesn’t sleep that well anymore, won’t fall asleep until he makes sure there’s a baseball bat under his bed, just in case, and he always double-checks if the door’s properly locked whenever he leaves his house, and it’s a little paranoid, to the point of getting ridiculous at times.

“We’re both fucked up, Derek,” Stiles tells him one day, and he means it, really, because they seriously are and maybe he should mind but –

Derek sighs, “We are,” even though he can’t actually know why Stiles said it all of a sudden and then kisses him and Stiles smiles into it a little.

 

 

* * *

 

 

People around him actually think they can tell him what to do.

And you’d reckon his dad would be the first one to talk, or Scott, because those are the people whose opinions actually matter to Stiles the most, but no, of course not, it’s not them.

It’s Deaton.

He and Stiles meet just outside Derek’s loft one day, Deaton leaving and Stiles going in, and they say their greetings because Deaton’s always, always polite, no matter what, and Stiles assumes that’s it, just like it usually is because why would Deaton want anything else from him when he never does?

But then Deaton says, “Stiles,” and makes a move as if he wants so grip Stiles’ wrist and again, Stiles has been a little paranoid lately so he moves away, just out of habit, even though Deaton wouldn’t hurt him or anything, and then stops and looks at him, raises an eyebrow in question.

“Stiles, Derek is dangerous,” Deaton then says, serious, for whatever reason he has, and it’s the last thing Stiles’d expect to hear from him right now because where the hell did that come from, all of a sudden, so he just stares for a second. “Remember that.”

And Stiles thinks, _what_? and he’s a little confused for a moment, but then there’s also anger starting to prickle at his skin because he can see this weird worry and warning in Deaton’s expression and who does this man think he is, showing up when it’s convenient and vanishing in the middle of a battle and now telling him “ _Stay away from Derek_ ,” basically and “ _He’s dangerous_ ,” as if it was Derek himself who was the biggest threat when in fact he’s everything but.

And for a second Stiles wants to tell him – that Derek Hale might be dangerous and hazardous but not to Stiles, never to Stiles. That Derek is solid and confident and Stiles can lean on him when he needs to, and Derek trusts him, appreciates it all, because for once someone genuinely needs _him_ , him as a person for who he is really and not for information or for his looks only or some other shit. He wants to say that whenever he wakes up from a nightmare, breathless and sometimes in tears and shivering, the images of the Nogitsune or Lydia’s motionless body on the lacrosse field or his Mom’s lifeless, empty eyes filling his mind, Derek’s always there, somehow, and he’s warm and comforting and strong, and he never says, “It’s okay” because it’s not and they both know and never says, “It’s just a dream,” because it’s not that, either, it’s all memories and no imagination.

Instead, Derek says, “You’re strong, you’re strong,” and he whispers it over and over again into Stiles’ skin, a litany for Stiles to remember, and he’s said it so, so many times now that Stiles has actually started to believe it, even if only because Derek believed it first.

So Stiles says none of that, only raises his eyebrows at Deaton and mutters, “I think I’ll be fine,” a little sarcastically because seriously, who suddenly gave this guy the right to interfere with his life?

The answer is no one, and Deaton, luckily, seems to realise it too, because he nods and then walks away and Stiles thinks, _Well, that was weird_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Derek makes him feel safe.

It’s a little overwhelming at first, the way Derek’s always around and within view and ready to stop him from doing something stupid or just simply getting himself killed because Stiles hasn’t felt that protected ever since his mom died – he loves his dad, he really does, but he also realises it’s hard to keep tabs on a kid like himself all the time, especially while still being the Sheriff and a single parent. Stiles remembers getting used to it pretty quickly, being left to his own devices, but then there was Derek, caging him, grabbing him, saying, “Don’t move,” and “Trust me,” and there’s something more to all this, Stiles understands, than just being used to, because all of a sudden Derek’s pressing him into the mattress, pulls down on the bed or pushes him into a wall, presses his body closer against his own and he’s all around Stiles, over him and next to him and Stiles realizes he has never felt more right.

It’s intoxicating, feeling so secure, and whenever Derek pins him down, all crushing weight and power and safety, Stiles feels utterly _free_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Scott won’t say a thing, but Stiles knows he knows.

And he doesn’t like it, Stiles and Derek together, Stiles can tell that much. Scott sometimes stares at Derek too intensely, as if he hurt someone, whenever he’s in the loft or shoots Stiles weird glances, frowns when he thinks Stiles can’t see, because Scott doesn’t get it at all, any of it.

Sometimes Stiles wonders how Scott calls Derek in his mind, what Scott thinks Stiles and Derek are exactly, because he won’t say and won’t ask but Stiles can almost see all those cogs turning in his head, and that’s funny, really, because you’d think Scott’d know him well enough to work it out on his own but no.

And Stiles thinks, no, Scott won’t understand this, that’s the one thing he’ll never really get about Stiles, because Stiles and Scott may be similar and they may be brothers, nearly, related by everything but blood, but they are not the same. Scott is a werewolf, and he’s calm and collected when he has to be, or fierce and powerful, and he protects people – and likes it, because that’s what makes him feel needed. Scott is the kind of person who’d jump in front of you and take the punch for you and yell at you to _go, run!_ , he’s the shield the others crave for, he protects his mom and Kira and used to protect Allison, all these people.

And Stiles thinks this is why he won’t get what he and Derek have, won’t because the way they work is so different from anything Scott’s ever known. He won’t get this – that Stiles is just a human, still, and this is everything he’ll ever be and it might not seem like much but sometimes it is, it’s too much to handle even for Stiles himself when he feels like he’s about to go mad from all these thoughts in his head. That sometimes he just needs someone who’d make all these thoughts stop and Derek’s surprisingly good at that, at silencing his mind, calming it down, when he presses him into the couch and steals his breath away, so effortlessly. That Stiles doesn’t need to be the one protecting but the one _protected_ , because that’s the way most humans work, and Derek knows this, even though Stiles never said it out loud, even though Derek has never been truly, merely human himself.

And Stiles thinks, _no_.

But Scott is still his best friend, and maybe he actually isn’t as oblivious as Stiles tends to label him as because he somehow knows this himself, just that – that there’s something about Stiles that’s different and this is simply how things work now.

So he doesn’t like it, what’s going on, and doesn’t understand but he still loves Stiles and Stiles still loves him and neither of them says a word.

 

 

* * *

 

 

An unknown pack of werewolves comes along, crosses the borders of Beacon Hills, and Stiles doesn’t know why they’re here, if they showed up to just say hi or to mess with the pack’s dynamics or to encroach on Derek’s or Scott’s territory but they still meet them in the forest, a theoretically safe place.

Stiles is the only human to come, of course, and when they see him – or smell, more like – their eyes go wide and their Alpha stares, at first at Stiles, then at Derek, because, hell, it’s so obvious what’s going on when, Stiles bets, they both smell like each other and barely anything else at this point.

“You chose _him_?” the Alpha says, ridiculously shocked, as if that meant something offensive, and Stiles can’t help but roll his eyes because seriously, what does it mean “ _chose_ ”, but then Derek shifts his weight and glances at Stiles over his shoulder, gaze impossibly warm for a second and –

He says, “Yes.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

So yeah, Stiles thinks they’re both broken in a way, but that’s fine.

It’s fine because he tells Derek about his mom sometimes, says, “She could sing really well,” and “Her second name was Julia,” and it hurts still – Stiles doubts it will ever stop, really – but not as much as it does when he talks about her to others and if that doesn’t mean something then he has no idea what does. And Derek tells him about his family, too, says that Laura used to play electric guitar and annoy the hell out of him, and his father’s cooking was divine and one time he says, “They would’ve all loved you.”

And Stiles kind of shivers a little because it hits deep and he wonders if his mom would’ve liked Derek, even though his dad still doesn’t really, not yet, although he’s trying and it’s all getting better, little by little, and then thinks that she would, she would.

Derek Hale makes her son feel whole in a way no one else ever really has before, and Stiles knows – for Mom, that would’ve been enough.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Derek gives him the key to his loft about a month after Stiles graduates from high school, closes his fingers around the shining, cool piece of metal made especially for him and no one else.

“Just so that you can finally stop ringing the damn doorbell,” he mutters, pretending to be annoyed at the thought alone and fine, Stiles might have been abusing the said doorbell just a little, but Derek’s eyes are bright and Stiles chuckles, happy, before pulling him in for a kiss.

They have sex on the couch later, Stiles’ legs wrapped around Derek’s waist, Derek gripping his wrists, pinning his arms above his head, solid and safe and his, all his, and Stiles loves every bit of it because how could he not?

When he finally comes back home, the sky outside already dark, his dad immediately spots the new key in his collection somehow, his cop senses working as great as ever, and he eyes it suspiciously but again, he’s been working on getting along with Derek for some time now, so everything he says is, “Tell him to come over for dinner sometime, okay, son?”

It’s a little forced and reluctant because Stiles knows – Derek is older than him, and a werewolf at that and Dad doesn’t really like it one bit, but Derek’s also a fair guy, brave and good and he cares about Stiles and his dad would have to be blind not to see all this, so he tries.

Stiles smiles because he loves his dad so much and says, “Okay.”

His dad doesn’t get it, him and Derek together, no, but for once Stiles doesn’t think he needs him to, because hell, the only people who really need to get it are Derek and Stiles alone, and no one else, and it's as simple as that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I love you,” Stiles says.

Derek peers up at him and blinks, then smiles, rough and unpractised, a wide grin, and says, “I love you, too.”

And really – that’s all there is to it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://angstandcats.tumblr.com)


End file.
